The rain had stopped when they arrived in the outskirts of Detroit. Connor parked the car right in front of the small house and got out before Hank could say anything.

He quickly got out to and said loudly: "Connor! You wait here!"

Connor turned to face it and frowned. "My instructions are to accompany you to the crime scene, Lieutenant."

"Instructions, huh? Whose instructions?"

"Cyberlife and the Detroit Police-"

"I don't care – they aren't the lead detective in this case. I am." Hank turned on his heel and left, passing by the android cop guarding the perimeter by flashing his badge.

"Androids are not permitted beyond this point," he could hear it say behind his back.

Hank pinched his nose. What the …

"I have instructions to follow Lieutenant Anderson," said Connor.

Hank sighed. "It's with me."

At the front door of the house was Kowalski, checking something on his tablet. Damn, Hank could remember him being a young and fit. He was now sporting grey hair and a beer gut. Kowalski looked briefly up.

"Hey Hank, you got yourself an android now? Signs and wonders man …"

"It was Fowler's idea," growled Hank.

Kowalski just smirked. "Well, I'll walk you through it. Todd Williams, laid off by Detroit Steel-"

Hank waved his hand dismissively. "No need for that, just show me his stash of Red Ice."

Kowalski's eyebrow rose. "You're a psychic now?"

"No, but I am a cop. And I still have a working brain … most of the time," Hank said.

Kowalski grimaced. "If you say so." He pulled a pack of chewing gums out of this trouser pocket and handed it to Hank.

Damn it, he hadn't thought that Kowalski would smell the alcohol on his breath. To his surprise Hank was still embarrassed, he had thought that he was long past that. He grabbed the gums and shoved one in his mouth.

They went into the house, Hank was surprised to find it in good order. "Huh, and here I thought that this was a typical den of an addict."

"Well," said Kowalski, "he got himself a household android after all. One would think he would buy a WR400 or something like that. But it gets even weirder … you'll see once you have been upstairs."

Hank just grunted.

"Body is upstairs, knock yourself out." With a shrug Kowalski went back out again.

Hank climbed the stairs, a CSI photographer was still taking pictures. The flashlight led him into the first room on the left.

The copper-y sweet smell of blood greeted him as soon as he stepped into the bed room. The body lay in a pool of blood; it was obvious that he had been shot twice in point blank range. Hank let his gaze wander over the body – Williams had beard stubbles, he looked unwashed and unkempt. There were old stains on his jeans. Such a clean house and yet he looked scruffy.

The photographer had finished and left. Now only Hank and Connor were left. Hank crossed his arms and took in the scene, Kowalski had been right. Something was weird about it, something more than just unclean clothes … but he couldn't put the finger on it.

Connor stepped forward and cowered down in front of the body, he could see the LED on its temple turning yellow and then blue again. Hank watched it with a frown how the android reached out and touched the pool of blood with the tip of his index finger. What the- he couldn't finish the thought when he saw that Connor licked the blood off his finger.

Hank grabbed it by the shoulder and yelled: "Stop it!"

Connor looked over its shoulder, something like a surprised look on its face. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?!"

Connor got up and straightened its tie. "I can analyse liquids with the sensors in my mouth. I apologize, Lieutenant. It wasn't my intention to startle you. I assumed you were aware of my capabilities."

Hank ran his hand through his hair and exhaled. Had Fowler mentioned this? Had it been in the briefing? "Just- just warn me the next time, okay?"

"Of course, Lieutenant."

"And don't say 'Lieutenant' in every sentence. It's annoying."

"Understood." Connor stood in front of him, watching him with its brown eyes like it was expecting something from him. Waiting for him to continue.

"Something interesting in his blood?"

Connor nodded. "There were very high levels of Red Ice in his blood. He must've smoked it right before his death. There were also traces of Benzodiazepines and alcohol."

"Huh, look at that. Why would a Red Ice junkie take benzos to calm down? This is atypical. They usually like to be on the red road …"

"I also reconstructed the crime, it appears that the shooter was about 4'5 and stood or kneeled approximately where I'm standing now. The gunshots indicate that the victim was turning around to face the shooter."

Hank stepped next to Connor and scanned the floor, there was nothing that could've caused Williams to stare into this particular corner of the room. Hank could feel a headache coming on, he massaged his temple. He sight fell on William's baggy jeans, they had slightly slid down, revealing white underwear. The belt was missing.

Hank knelt down and peeked under the bed on the left side of the body. He put on latex gloves and reached out and pulled a belt from under the bed.

"Will you look at that …", mumbled Hank.

Connor tilted its head a little. "I'm looking at the belt, I don't detect anything special."

Hank scoffed. "Of course you wouldn't. There is nothing special about the belt itself. But it's interesting where I found it."

"Judging from the trajectory the victim was holding it in his right hand when he turned to face his attacker."

He checked the belt, but Hank didn't find any traces of blood. A memory resurfaced, his father's face twisted in rage, holding his dark brown belt in his fist.

He felt a lump in his throat. "Does Williams have children?"

"Yes, according to his file his ex-wife filed a restraining order five years ago on grounds of domestic abuse. She argued with the child's well-being."

Hank gritted his teeth.

"She lives in Jacksonville with her daughter, according to the electronical attendance list of the daughter's school she was in class today," continued Connor.

"Thank god."

"I suggest we have a look in the other rooms, Lieutenant."

"Alright."

Hank checked the living room and the kitchen. There was nothing suspicious. The only remarkable thing was how clean everything was – except for a small glass bong with red residue in it. He grimaced and opened the door to the backyard. Despite the darkness he could see laundry fluttering in the wind; it seemed that the android didn't have time to pick it up from the clothesline.

Strange. It was November … why would the android put up laundry outside? Just when he was about to muse further on the subject he heard steps behind him.

"I found something interesting upstairs," said Connor.

"Lead the way."

They climbed the stairs again and headed to the last door, Hank cursed under his breath when he entered the room: bright drawings were pinned on the wall, a small bed was standing in front of a window, crayons and toys lay on the floor.

"I thought you said that the ex had a restraining order?" asked Hand sharply. "Looks to me that his daughter was here recently!"

"She has and I don't think that this is her room. I checked the room, there are no human hairs present. Not even on the pillow. But I found traces of Thirium 310-"

"Blue blood? Where?"

"It evaporates after a few hours, but it leaves a residue that can be tracked with the proper sensors. I found two sets of Thirium, one from the AX400 and the other from an YK500."

Hank looked around in the room, slowly he turned to face Connor. "YK500 … it's one of this child androids, isn't it?" Of course he already knew the answer. Fucking hell.

"Yes."

Hank sighed. He needed a drink. "So we're looking for two androids." He wiped across his face. "Shit."

"They don't have a car, and the only way to reach the city is by bus. There is a station nearby – we have to question witnesses-"

"It's 2 a.m.! I'm going to sleep."

Connor tilted his head, his LED shortly blinking yellow before returning to blue. "Of course, Lieutenant. I apologize. I'll drive you home."

At first he wanted to object, but in the end he just nodded. He was tired and drunk; it would be idiotic to refuse.

-0-

When Connor pulled up in front of Hank's garage it was pouring. He turned up the collar of his coat and quickly sped to the front door – only to realise that he didn't have his keys. Just when he was about to turn around and yell he realised that Connor was next to him, handing him his keys. Damn it was fast … Hank glanced at Connor. He was getting soaked, his hair was already wet.

He pressed his lips together and fiddled with the lock until he finally hit the key hole. He quickly stepped inside and turned to wait for Connor to come in.

But Connor didn't move. It still stood in the rain, its lips twitching. "Good night, Lieutenant."

Yes of course, it wasn't a human. There was no point in inviting him into his house. It probably had to return to recharge anyway or something like that. "Night."

Hank closed the door, locked it and pulled his shoes from his feet before throwing his coat over the backrest of a kitchen chair. A look in the fridge reminded him why he had planned to going to the grocery store. He grabbed a beer and cracked it open while searching the cupboard until he had found a can with ravioli.

He dumped the ravioli into bowl and shoved it into the microwave. As soon as the humming began he could hear panting and the sound of paws on linoleum. Poor Sumo – he was supposed to get his food hours ago.

"You hungry?"

The large Saint Bernhard dog barked.

"I know, I know." He pulled a bag with dog food from one of the cupboards and poured dry food into Sumo's bowl.

"And don't give me that look – you can't always eat wet food. The doctor said so."

The microwave beeped and Hank pulled out the bowl – the plate was hot but the ravioli were cold. Hank yawned and started to eat anyway.